In Company of Wolves
by Caelestis
Summary: Harry is going into his sixth year at Hogwarts, but abuse over the summer has changed his powers drastically. Only one person will be able to help him now... and it's the person that he least expects. SLASH
1. To Be Betrayed

In Company of Wolves

**Disclaimer**: As always, this writer holds no rights to any of the character created by J.K. Rowling. If you wanna sue, the only thing worth anything is my textbooks – and they aren't even mine. sigh

Forward

At the time I started this story, the fifth book was not published. As such, the first version has numbers of flaws that I am only now working out. I thank all of you loyal readers for your patience and understanding, and sincerely hope that you will like this version as well as the first. I would like to also thank those who have continued to leave reviews and inspiration for the continuation of my writing, it has helped get my butt in gear and finish this.

Chapter One

The slender, dark haired boy made his way to the kitchen of the small house in trepidation. Marks of abuse could be seen on his pale body that was emaciated due to malnutrition. There was also a look in his eyes that belied his mental state: A haunting mix of self loathing and indifference that was constantly present. It had also been some time since he had last bathed. This summer had been worse than any of the others; Dudley by himself had been particularly nasty, but Aunt Petunia and Vernon… they took particular delight in his misery, finding fault with everything that he did, even more so than usual. In contrast to his previous summers, Vernon had taken to beating him several weeks after he had returned from Hogwarts; the black and blue marks that remained on his body testified to the enormous man's rage. Thankfully, nothing important had been broken thus far in his body.

No one was awake yet and Harry breathed a sigh of relief. In the cold gray dawn of morning, the young man entertained many a thought, though none of them came to fruition. If he tried to run away, the Aurors would catch him and force him to remain at his prison at number four Private Drive. He couldn't use magic to solve any of his problems – it was forbidden to use outside of school unsupervised. If he did, he would be suspended… or expelled, like he almost was last year. It hadn't even been his fault! He had been trying to protect his cousin at the time.

Unlike in the Wizarding World where the name 'Harry Potter' brought with it respect and even admiration, here it was spat from fat lips with distain. It had grown even worse now that Sirius was dead. Now there was no check for their anger. They couldn't care less what wizards would think; they were all freaks in their eyes. These people were supposed to be his family, yet their abuse was even worse than Voldemort's.

The once vivacious green eyes of the Boy-Who-Lived were now growing dull, attaining a lifelessness as he went about his chores mechanically. Breaking the eggs into the pan he had heated on the stove, he stirred them around gently, adding in salt and pepper for seasoning. He could hear creaking upstairs as one of the other occupants of the house rose from their slumber and cringed as he heard the heavy footfalls make their way downstairs. Vernon had been out drinking with his friends the night before and he was sure to be in one of his moods and with a hangover to boot. A moment of inattention caused several of the eggs to brown. His face pallid, he turned to face the oppressing bulk of his uncle, his fat face red with fury.

"Burn the eggs, will you?" He hissed, stepping forward into the small room. Harry quailed before him, trying to escape the meaty hand descending on him. At this point all protests were useless, as Harry knew from experience, and he clenched his teeth to hold back a whimper as he was hit. The force from the impact sent him into the wall behind him, his breath jarred from his chest upon impact. This didn't stop more blows from falling on his light form. Nothing could stop the man once he got going, and the least little thing would set him off.

Even through all this Harry made no sound, taking the abuse as he always did. He wouldn't give Vernon the satisfaction of making him cry out. This infuriated the large man, and grabbing the oversized clothing hanging of Harry's lanky frame and threw him to the floor. He lay there with no strength left to rise. If only Dumbledore would allow him to use magic over the summer! Then none of this would happen. It was so simple… he was Harry Potter, for crying out loud! The freaking savior of the Wizarding World! How was he supposed to face Voldemort in this condition? None of the other family members had risen yet, and they wouldn't for several hours. Nothing short of a bomb would wake up the members of the Dursley family. Muttering drew Harry's attention to the present as Vernon yanked him up by his hair only to throw him again to the floor.

"You and your freaky friends… there will be no freaks in my family! Not if I have anything to do about it! Maybe the beatings aren't a good enough lesson for you then, you little queer!" The loathsome would hung in the air between the victim and his tormenter. Harry lay sprawled on the hard wood floor, panting softly. "Perhaps this will teach you a lesson then!"

Harry jerked away in horror as he saw Vernon's bathrobe pool on the floor beside him. Weighty hands reached for his pants, ripping them from his body with a jerk. He was forced into a submissive position on his stomach. This wasn't happening…

"No…" Harry gasped through bloody lips, unable to do anything to stop the monster above him. A heavy mass was on his back before he could think and something large and hard was shoved against his anal passage. He jerked in shock, but was unable to move more than his head.

A wave of pain tore through him, radiating up his spine as his channel was breached without so much as the least of preparation. His assailant finally got what he wanted as a muffled scream ripped from Harry's throat. The intruder did not wait for him to adjust but continued to pound into him. Harry felt the skin inside him tear, sending new waves of agony though his tortured body. There was still no movement from the second floor, but at this point, Harry couldn't think beyond his suffering. He prayed to all the gods he could think of, that somebody would come and rescue him, but his pleas fell on deaf ears if they were even heard at all.

Pig like grunts came from the man above him as he spread Harry's legs further apart, drawing another scream from Harry's broken form as his position changed and pace redoubled. The thrusts shook Harry's body, the pain overloading his senses until he just lay there numbly, waiting for the torment to end or for his body to give way under the pressure and die.

A wave of hot sperm washed the torn insides of his bowels as the man he called 'uncle' brought himself to completion inside his nephew's body. He didn't wait before drawing his member covered in blood and feces from Harry's body.

"Clean up this mess, boy, or you won't get any dinner." Without another word, he lumbered off. Harry lay there numbly for several minutes in a puddle of his own blood before he managed to drag himself to his former bedroom, the cupboard under the stairs, passing out on a pile of filthy rags before he could do anything else. A green glow surrounded him as the first seeds of hatred matured.

Slowly the poor boy drifted awake, the aches of his body reminding him of the horror he had suffered through mere hours ago. A sickly feeling was firmly placed in his gut where the remains of his uncle's semen had congealed. He slowly reached behind himself and probed the gaping hole with his fingers. Odd… he had expected a warm flow of blood; he remembered that something had torn inside as his… his… '_Vernon_' violated him. All the remains were dry, and the tear had already scabbed over.

He shut his eyes and swallowed, accepting the unwonted healing, just grateful not to have died from the blood loss. He would be returning to Hogwarts in a few weeks; he could survive this nightmare. He was the Boy-Who-Lived after all. He had survived multiple encounters with Voldemort… a few weeks of this were child's play in comparison. Or so he hoped. He lay there silently for quite a few long minutes before realizing that he didn't hear any sounds at all coming from the rest of the house. He opened the door to the little space and looked out. Someone must have shut it when he was comatose; he certainly hadn't been conscious enough to do it himself.

The house was empty. Biting his lower lip to keep him distracted from the pain that permeated his body, he forced himself to his feet. Hobbling out into the hall, he was grateful that there wasn't anyone here to witness this humiliation. Or take advantage of it, like Dudley would. Belatedly, Harry remembered that it was once again his overweight cousin's birthday. The 'family' must have gone out to celebrate it.

Harry decided to take advantage of their absence and slowly made his way to the shower on the second floor. Turning on the water, he stood beneath the scalding spray and let it wash away the accumulated dirt and grime as well as traces of his uncle's enjoyment from his tired body. For a boy his age, it wasn't right for him to be so weary of life. He felt the depression seep into the core of his being, the force of it ripping at his emotions until he felt like he could barely stand. His breathing turned harsh as he began to sob, salty tears falling from his eyes to mix with the shower's water as it spiraled down the drain.

His body ached with every movement, pain rippling through his abdomen as he fought for his breaths; sinking lightly to the ground, he curled up into a fetal position and cried for his lost innocence.


	2. Companions New and Old

AUTHOR'S NOTES

Thank you to all those who have reviewed the first chapter! I got a much better response than I had hoped for, which in turn sped up the production of this chapter, as you can see.

This fanfic is loosely based on a challenged issued by Nelia several months back. I have taken the liberty to change a few aspects of this work, and I hope she doesn't mind what I have planned for the future chapters. If you like the way that this is going so far, and want to see more, don't forget to leave me a review!

DISCLAIMER: Don't own anyone here 'cept my little snake…. Oops… I shouldn't ha' told ye that… winks

_"Parseltongue"_

Part Two

Harry's eyes opened slightly. Several weeks had passed since Vernon had first… raped him; the man had not been satisfied with only the first occurrence and continued to torture and abuse him, raping him constantly on top of his beatings. Today was his birthday, but it brought him no joy. Even though he would be turning sixteen and in one more week the sixth year of Hogwarts would begin, he couldn't bring himself to feel any emotion. It had fled the moment Vernon had touched him. What could be considered the worst was that his Aunt _knew_… and she did _nothing_.

Scars were still raw on his emotions from the summer's events, almost causing him physical pain as he made himself get out of his ratty bed. Strange things had also been happening, usually right after Vernon had finished with him. Things _changed_, or broke, and his body was healing at a much faster rate than it had ever been before. This alone terrified him; he had never been normal, but what would his friends think of him now?

He hadn't received any mail from Ron or Hermione; he assumed that the reason was because his uncle had been rather thorough in that aspect. The house was boarded up tighter than his room had been the year the Chamber of Secrets had been opened. They were more than likely worried about him. He smiled slightly as he remembered their exploits during the previous years at Hogwarts. They always had been an unruly bunch.

Padding softly towards his dresser, he pulled out some second hand clothes of Dudley's and got dressed for another day. Harry didn't even acknowledge the differences to his own health and powers; habit reinforced by his upbringing making him shy from any more differences that were being thrust upon him.

He walked slowly down the stairs and made his relatives their breakfast, laying it out on the table and leaving the house before any of the louts made it down the stairs. He was still aching from Vernon's last beating, and that alone impeded his progress.

Chores had been heaped on top of his already overflowing workload, the stupid pigs forcing on him things that would increase his misery. A sharp pang of fear was followed quickly by anger as Harry knelt down in Petunia's flowerbeds and began to weed them. He knew that he should have no right to feel the way he did about the three of them; this he had been told since he was a child, and it was firmly engrained in him not to question their orders. It surprised him that even Voldemort couldn't scare him like the Dursleys did. As soon as the wave of fear hit him, it left, leaving in its wake a surge of anger that threatened to consume his entire being.

Harry's eyes glowed a brief green as he grappled with that anger before fading to their normal color, however the only way he could have known would have been to look into a mirror. A sob bubbled up in his chest, one that he couldn't choke down. He buried his head in his dirt-covered hands, wallowing in his misery.

A hissing sound brought him back to the present and he looked up in shock to see a delicate looking snake thread its way through the grass covered portionof the magnolias, making its way toward him. The snake was a beautiful, iridescent silver, its scales lining up seamlessly and glistening in the sun as the dirt refused to attach itself to them. It stopped several feet from where Harry lay and drew itself up into the air to address him.

_"Harry Potter?"_

The boy in question looked slightly startled, tears tracing his muddy face that made his green eyes seem ever so ethereal. What did this snake want with him?

_"Yessssss?"_ Harry replied in parseltongue.

_"For what reassssssson have you sssssssummoned me, my Masssssster?"_ The snake's onyx orbs reflected none of its confusion.

_"Sssssssummoned?"_ Harry replied, equally confused. _"I didn't ssssssummon you; you musssssssst be misssssssssstaken."_

The snake flicked out its forked tongue, before moving closer. _"I felt your sssssssummons. What isssss your disssstresssss?"_

Harry nearly broke out crying again. No human contact for months on end could do that to a person.

_"Why… why would you even care! I'm a freak!"_ Tears did fall once more from the poor boy's eyes as his emotion crept out from under his control and he could barely help himself as he blurted out what had happened to him over the summer. His pain made his newborn power flare, unconsciously touching the winds and forming a small maelstrom around himself. "_You sssshould bite me now, and let me end my missssery." _

The snake hissed in anger, untouched by the abating outburst, and bared its fangs as it turned towards the house.

_"I will kill the mugglesssssssssss! No one touchessssss Masssster in sssssssuch a way and livessssssss!"_ It started towards the house to carry out its threat.

_"No!"_ Harry nearly shouted in panic, eyelashes dewy with released moisture. _"You can't do that!"_

_"For what reassssssson do you protesssssst?"_

_"B... becausssssse. They are ssssstill my… My family, and Dumbledore wouldn't like it if they died. They would all blame me…"_ Harry sniffled.

The snake could no more grasp Harry reasoning than it could talk like a human, but the people in question _were_ Harry's relations, as well as the one who had wounded him, and as such Harry would be the one to determine their fate. Giving a small sigh, the silver snake wound its way up his arm to rest gently around his neck.

_"Thissssssss is your grievance, and ssssso you are the one who musssssst take justice."_ The snake stated. _"You have ssssssssssumonned me, sssssssso I sssssssshall remain. You have but to command me and I will gladly kill the mugglessssssss, Masssster."_

_"Thank you."_ Harry whispered, comforted in the fact that any being would care enough for him to remain after seeing or rather hearing about what he endured.

"Boy!" Came the loud shout from inside the house. Harry rose with a sigh and wiped away the remaining tears from his eyes. As he moved to see what his uncle wanted, he realized that he didn't know his new friend's name. So he asked.

_"I am called 'Armand'."_ And the snake gave him the equivalent of a smile. Harry returned it as the snake turned its attention back towards the mountain of blubber before it, towering in the doorframe.

"Boy, you know better than to lazy about; when I call you, you'd better come!" Vernon shouted.

"Yes, uncle Vernon." Harry muttered, looking at the ground. The man went to lay a hand on Harry's shoulder to drag him inside, but the snake that had just befriended Harry rose with a hiss, unsheathing it's fangs threateningly towards Dursley. The horrid man backed away with an audible gulp at the angry serpent. The Dursleys were not fond of snakes, especially after a Python had nearly bitten Dudley.

_"Armand!"_ Harry hissed at the snake._ "Pleasssse, pleasssssse don't get me into any more trouble!"_

_"Do not worry, Masssssster. I will take good care of him."_ Armand was unconcerned. He wasn't going to _hurt _the fat man, even though he deserved it. Harry had requested him not too. Scaring him on the other hand…

"W- who do you t- think you are trying to fool?" Vernon blustered, palling visibly.

"No-one, uncle Vernon." Harry muttered, frightened.

The snake drew itself back to strike, growing slightly in size as it wielded its inherent magic talent. Vernon scuttled back to fast he almost tripped over his own feet to escape the serpent that his nephew was clearly controlling.

"K- keep it away!" He screamed as he slammed the door in Harry's face. Harry stood there stunned at what had just happened. Armand returned to his original size, just over three feet long, and curled around the boy's forearm.

_"I trussssssst you won't have any more problemssssss with me around."_ The serpent stated.

_"Thank you."_ Harry replied, shocked.

_"It'ssss my duty. I'm ssssorry I wassssn't here before."_

The entire mood of the day changed as Harry once again was reminded of the degradation he suffered at the hand of the oaf that couldn't ever possibly be classified as human.

_"It'sssssss alright, it'sssss not your fault."_

The silver snake looked at him in sympathy, offering what support it could. It knew that it wouldn't be able to repair what had been damaged in this poor boy, but maybe it could assist him in… other matters.


	3. Changes

AUTHOR'S NOTES

WOW! 29 reviews for the first two chapters was REALLY beyond what I had expected! Thank you ALL for you lovely comments! grins I may have to put this on hold until next weekend, school you know, but if I continue to receive reviews at the rate I have been, another chapter will be posted before I have time to write it! Thank you all for your support and I hope you will continue to enjoy this fiction though the many chapters in its future.

This fanfic is loosely based on a challenged issued by Nelia several months back. I have taken the liberty to change a few aspects of this work, and I hope she doesn't mind what I have planned for the future chapters. If you like the way that this is going so far, and want to see more, don't forget to leave me a review!

DISCLAIMER: Don't own anyone here 'cept my little snake Armand, not making any money, and all character belong to the one who created this lovely universe, J.K. Rowling herself.

"_Parseltongue"_

Part Three

Harry had been huddling outside the house since the sun had set; he had been locked out all day since the incident with his uncle. The rest of the day hadn't been as bad as he had feared, Armand talking with him, and the sun provided a comforting source of warmth. Now, the night was cool, and Harry was growing colder by the moment. He looked up into the dark, smog-covered sky, imagining himself to be at Hogwarts where he could see the bright lights of the stars twinkling above him.

A cold wind blew by and he shivered. At least he didn't have to put up with the Dursley's nonsense today. Armand had really helped him there. The snake was still wrapped around his arm, and had been for the majority of the day; this could have been the reason that the door had not been opened. The three Dursleys had been seen pulling back the curtains, only to blanch at the sight of the snake near Harry.

So he had been left in peace, more happiness released in those hours than over the entire time he had spent in that small house over the summer. It was a wonder that the neighbors hadn't come around to see what the thin, lanky boy was doing alone in the yard, but then fear of Vernon was most likely a common thing in the neighborhood.

"_Masssster? Why do you ssssshiver? Are you cold?" _Armand hissed; the shivering boy nodded in assent. A serpentine glare was directed once again towards the house that the muggles lived in. Armand was definitely sure now that he absolutely _hated_ the muggles in that house; Harry had been like a dam that had broken, spilling forth everything that he had kept bottled up for years from their treatment.

"_Armand?" _Harry whispered.

"_Yessssss, my Massster?"_ The silver snake replied.

"_Maybe you should wait for me in the bushesssss over there. I'm getting really cold, and if I don't go insssside ssssssoon I could get very ssssssick."_

"_But… Massster…"_ Armand protested.

"_It'sssss all right. I've been dealing with them for yearsssss, I'll be fine."_ Harry's lips were turning blue, his thin body unequipped to deal with the weather even in the summertime. The protective snake had no choice but to agree with it's irrational human. Reluctantly he left Harry's arm and slithered into the leafy bushes lining the walkway and out of sight. Harry didn't have to wait long before the door opened and Vernon dragged him inside.

The door slammed shut on a very determined snake; one way or other, Armand was going to get into that house, whether his Master liked it or not.

"You stupid boy!" A heavy hand followed the hate filled words as it descended on Harry's already bruised face. His right eye was slowly turning an ugly purple as he cringed from more of the man's verbal abuse. "You know better than to bring your… _weirdness_ into this house!"

Dudley and Petunia looked on in satisfaction as Harry was beaten again for something he didn't have anything to do with. Harry took the punishment as well as he was able, whimpering at the more painful blows. Thankfully, since his wife and son weren't present, Vernon didn't repeat his degradation, and only hurled vicious maledictions at the poor boy as he dragged his bruised body up the stairs and locked him in his small room.

Harry finally broke down crying, harsh sobs racking his thin frame as he clenched at the ratty sheets of his bed.

"_Masssster?"_ There came a hiss from the window. Harry turned in shock as he saw Armand's slender form wedge itself in through a crack in the window's frame. It hadn't been fixed fully, save for the bars, since Ron Weasley and his brothers, Fred and George rescued him in his second year.

"_Armand?"_ Harry sniffled softly, biting back his tears with obvious effort. The snake made its way quickly to the distraught boy's side and set about calming him.

"_I'd rather die than live one more day in this houssssse."_ Harry murmured as his eyes started to close.

"_Today… today isssss your ssssssixteenth nameday, correct Massster?"_ Armand asked. Harry nodded, hesitantly. _"The sssssixteenth nameday of a Wizard marksssssss the day that hisssss full potential is revealed. Ssssometimesssss it variessssss, from wizard to wizard, but it isssss generally around that date."_

"_What are you talking about?"_ Harry's deep green orbs were still swimming with unshed tears as he tried to focus on the serpent.

Armand was about to reply but as he did, the door of the room burst open and the hulking form of Vernon entered. Harry gasped, his seeker fast reflexes catching Armand and tossing him into a dark corner as the solitude of his room was breached.

"_Don't move!"_ Harry hissed at the snake as he turned his panic stricken eyes at his tormentor.

Armand complied with his human's wishes, unable to do anything but watch as Vernon stripped the lower half of the boy and proceeded to enter him brutally, drawing screams of pain from him that were muffled by the pillows he was pressed against. The large man thrust in and out of Harry like a rutting pig, grunts filling the silence of the room along with a sickening slapping sound as flesh met flesh.

Right at that moment, however, the clock of the wall began to strike midnight. Armand looked again at his young master, for that was what Harry was now in his eyes, hopefully. Would his power surface now?

As in an answer to that unspoken question, a green haze began to surround Harry's body, growing stronger as his anger and misery grew to unimaginable proportions. He screamed in anguish as his body started to change, fire coursing through his veins as his bones started to reform. His uncle had his eyes screwed shut, however, and didn't notice any of the events that were taking place.

His shoulders grew broader, his body filling with an elegance that most body builders would envy, his body aging in mere minutes what others would have to wait years for. But that was not the only change that was taking place. His ears lengthened, tapering into delicate peaks, his canines also elongating into sharp points.

His strength taken away from the transformation he collapsed boneless onto his dirty bed, soiled by an intimacy that should never have occurred, something that defiled the very concept of humanity as Harry's fat uncle once again found his completion.

This time, however, was slightly different than the rest. From the ashes of Harry's dignity, an anger fueled retribution rose burning like a phoenix. A odd green light flickered to life softly against Harry's skin.

"What the devil…" Vernon trailed off, noticing for the first time the changes occurring, or rather the glow that had now engulfed the boy before him. A humorless laugh rose from the form crouched on the bed, semen and blood dripping down his legs.

Harry rose to his feet, his new power lifting him into the air as the two watching this event looked on in horror and mute fascination. Armand had never expected something like this… is appeared that the prophecy of his kindred would be fulfilled sooner than he had hoped.

Green lights shimmered as they were spun around the body of the fae-like creature, hanging limply in the air as his body gathered itself for the final transformation. Vernon backed away, falling over as he scuttled backward from the unknown terror his nephew had become to him.

Two lumps grew suddenly on Harry's back, moving almost as if they were alive, the skin bubbling and stretching oddly before breaking through the reluctant tissue that barred their path into life. Two shimmering, greenish-black wings stood out wetly from Harry's back, covered in blood and broken skin and only a foot or so in length.

Vernon's eyes rolled back in his head as he lost consciousness.


	4. Pets and Police

AUTHOR'S NOTES

You guys are awesome!!! I can't believe I have gotten over 50 reviews in the short time since I first posted the fanfic… grins goofily Well, here is the next chapter. Again, enjoy! I will be sending Harry to Hogwarts to meet up with Draco sometime in the next three or four chapters. Might be less, but we'll see. The slash WILL come! AHAHAHA!! laughs pardon me… I'm still tired, it's like midnight now. Oh! Be forewarned… this entire thing is un-beta'd. Read at your own risk!

This fanfic is loosely based on a challenged issued by Nelia several months back. I have taken the liberty to change a few aspects of this work, and I hope she doesn't mind what I have planned for the future chapters. If you like the way that this is going so far, and want to see more, don't forget to leave me a review!

Serenitatis has helped with the plot line of this chapter and a little bit also for the pervious chapters. I wanna send out a thanks to her, her ideas help keep the dream alive. She also pointed out a few… mistakes, along with several of you readers. I've fixed some, but for others… you'll just have to wait. winks I promise I'll explain everything later.

DISCLAIMER: Don't own anyone here 'cept my little snake Armand, not making any money, and all characters belong to the one who created this lovely universe, J.K. Rowling herself.

"_Parseltongue"_

Part Four

"No…" Harry moaned as he opened eyes, remembering the events before he had lost consciousness. "Please… Not again…"

Then he blinked. He didn't hurt like he had expected… the pain was still there but… there was also something else that was nagging at him. He felt coldness against his arm and looked down to see Armand slithering closer to him.

"_Armand?"_

"_Masssster! I've been trying to wake you…"_ Armand looked over him with worried eyes. The sheets of the bed were more rumpled than Harry remembered, and he could feel an odd wetness on the backs of his thighs. He shuddered as all the suffering he had recently endured came back in full force as his memories returned.

"_Vernon?"_ Harry asked tonelessly. Armand spared a brief glance over to and empty space where an unconscious lump had crumpled against the wall the previous night, a glance that was filled with distain.

"_Massster… how do you feel?"_ The snake asked hurriedly. Harry looked outside the bars on his small window to see that it was still dark outside. He couldn't have been unconscious for more than a few hours. Usually by this time he would have received parcels from his friends, wishing him a good birthday. Dejectedly he looked down. There wasn't a single bird or present in sight.

"_I'm assss well asssss can be expected, I ssssupposssse."_ He finally muttered. He winced as he pushed himself to his feet. The house seemed to be devoid of life; Harry stuck his head into Vernon and Petunia's room. The drawers were pulled out of their dressers haphazardly, discarded clothing littering the floor and bed. Racing towards Dudley's room, Harry found the same sight.

The conclusion that the poor boy came to was both harsh and accurate; they had left him, he had been abandoned. Harsh sobs wracked his chest, tears pouring in streams from his eyes as he crumpled to the floor with his back up against the frame of the door.

Several hours later, Harry was still in the same spot where he had collapsed, his eyes red and puffy from crying. Flashes of memories kept popping into his head that only served to increase his misery as his cries grew in volume. Armand was at a loss; how was he supposed to help his young Master? What was expected of him? A confused snake is not a happy snake, but in certain cases the reptiles overcame their natural instincts to help the ones that cared for them.

Growing impatient, and extremely irritated from the noise, Armand crept away to Harry's room, spotting a covered cage in the corner.

He could smell an owl, a fellow predator on the smaller rodents, mixed with the lingering of Harry's own distinct scent. Pushing up the canvas covering the cage, Armand came face to face with a pair of baleful, golden eyes as Hedwig stared suspiciously at him.

"_You are Massster'ssss?"_ Armand tried to ask her. She chirped in annoyance, before lunging at the serpent, unable to understand what he had said to her. She came up flush with the bars, her beak clicking as it his the metal.

Knowing that Harry probably needed her for comfort, he looked at the cage for some sort of latch. Once he found it, he made sure that he was out of the way of the bird's flight before releasing it and freeing Hedwig from her brass prison.

Ignoring the snake now that she was free and could see that it presented her no harm, she went straight to Harry… only to see someone else in his place. She alighted on the floor near him, hopping closer to inspect the creature before her. He smelled like Harry. But her master didn't have any wings of his own, and this boy did.

However, fate must have been with Harry for at that moment he raised his green orbs, confirming himself to his owl. Cooing in delight, Hedwig hopped up onto his folded knees that he had grasped between his arms, shuffling over to his bare shoulder for a more comfortable position.

"Hedwig?" Harry whispered, his voice hoarse and cracking. She chirped merrily, trying to cheer him up. "How did you get out of your cage?"

"_I let her out."_ Armand slithered up to Harry, drawing a hiss from the owl on his shoulder. Harry hastily reassured Hedwig, and after a few moments the owl let the snake approach, although she was still keeping a close eye on him.

"_Thank you, so much."_ Harry nearly broke out sobbing again. His two animal friends remained by his side until he passed out from exhaustion. His new body was only slightly different from his old one, and still was susceptible to ordinary things like that. The owl and snake had reached an impasse, each one trying to stare the other down. Mutual concern for Harry was a common mediator, and they both soon accepted the other's place in Harry's life based on the events that had occurred before. They waited patiently for their master to awaken.

So again, hours later, Harry had regained enough energy to wake up and panicked, fully expecting Hedwig and Armand to be at each other's throats, but the were sitting quietly next to each other looking at him. Harry rubbed at his sore eyes, taking a few deep breaths to calm himself further. So his family had left him… He could deal with it. He... he didn't need them…

"Thank you… both of you." He nodded softly towards his friends who had kept a vigil over him while he slept.

"_It isss nothing to help my Massster. Do you feel better now?"_ Armand asked. Hedwig chirped, trying to add her own concerns for her young master.

"Better."

Harry padded softly back to his room and packed his trunk for Hogwarts after pulling on a discarded pair of pants and underwear. It was sad to see what little possessions he had accumulated in his sixteen years of living, the majority of which was able to fit in a common trunk. He closed and latched its lid, bending over to try and drag it outside. To his surprise, he lifted it easily, cradling it within his two arms as he tread slowly downstairs. Armand and Hedwig followed closely behind him, stopping on the stairs as he put the truck down near the door.

Harry froze as he caught sight of his reflection in a mirror. Bloody hell… his eyes widened in shock as he caught sight of metallic, serrated ears poking through his suddenly tame and shining mass of black hair that curled gently around the nape of his neck. He lifted a hand to touch them, and started at the black talons where his fingernails had once been. Shock crept over him like a blanket as he surveyed his physical changes, praying that it was only a dream.

A movement behind his shoulder blades caught his eye; was that Hedwig? His jaw dropped as he craned his neck around to make out two small wings, each one sprouting from the middle of his upper back. They were colored a dark gray, and they were covered in scales, also a shiny metallic like his ears… and he could move them.

Another thing nagged at him, reminding him that he wasn't wearing his glasses… that that he could see with crystal clarity things that he could have seen before, even with the darn things.

He sagged once again to the floor; he seemed fated to stand out. Now, on top of being 'The-Boy-That-Lived', he was going to have to go to Hogwarts to face the ridicule of his peers… the blood drained form his face as he contemplated the prospect. And Malfoy… dear God no…

"_Masssster, don't do thissss to yoursssself!"_ Armand started, worried. _"Everything happensssss for a reasssson; you only don't know your reassssson yet!"_

"_I never assssked for thisssss, Armand! Look at me! I'M A FREAK."_ Harry snarled in self-loathing.

"_You are no freak! You are the ssssssssavior of the WORLD-"_

"_Well, maybe I don't WANT to be the sssssssavior of the world! Maybe I jusssssst want to live a normal life, with a normal family, with my mum and dad… but they are DEAD!"_ Harry once again went into hysterics, unable to deal with the emotional strain.

A wailing rose outside the small house, drawing Harry from his inward struggle against himself. Going to the window, he pulled back the curtain to see what was going on outside through tear filled eyes. He nearly gasped; outside there were nearly ten police cars, their lights flashing and some with their sirens on. Men surged forth, setting up a block around the house, while one other got a bullhorn.

"This is the police. Come out with your hands up! If you do not we will be forced to shoot." The clicking of loaded guns followed his statement. Harry gulped nervously, his previous problem forgotten in his plight.

"Oh shit…"


	5. Expect the Unexpected

AUTHOR'S NOTES

I can't believe all the reviews that I have gotten for my little fic! I mean, 50 was great, but now 75… As a tribute to all those who have reviewed, here is the next chapter of 'In Company of Wolves'. It's leading up to something many of you could consider shocking, and I'm not talking about the cuteness of Harry and Draco doing the couple thing. winks You'll have to see what I mean, so stay tuned and enjoy!

This fanfic is loosely based on a challenged issued by Nelia several months back. I have taken the liberty to change a few aspects of this work, and I hope she doesn't mind what I have planned for the future chapters. If you like the way that this is going so far, and want to see more, don't forget to leave me a review!

DISCLAIMER: Don't own anyone here 'cept my little snake Armand, not making any money, and all characters belong to the one who created this lovely universe, J.K. Rowling herself. Wish I had Draco though…

Parseltongue

Part Five

The young man was distraught, pacing back and forth in the small foyer. Armand was wrapped firmly around his right leg, although he was getting quite dizzy and was beginning to regret his decision.

Outside more of the Muggle police cars had shown up, one of them containing the missing Dursleys. Harry was beginning to understand what had occurred, as he saw Petunia burst into hysterics and grab hold of Dudley, Vernon a blustering bag of wind as his face heated from the strength of his accusations.

_"Armand, what ssssssshould I do? This is very, very bad…"_ Harry whispered frantically. _"I look like a freak! The police are probably going to kill me…"_

Hedwig hooted her distain of the Dursley's behavior in owl talk from her position on the stairwell. She gave them a severe reprimand after calling them several choice names. They didn't hear her, of course, but that didn't deter her the slightest.

_"I can't sssssstay here… and I can't apparate! I can't be expelled from Hogwartsssss… I can't! Oh, what am I going to do?"_ He wrapped his arms around his chest, biting his lower lip in despair.

_"Masssster, relax, I'm sssssure everything isssss going to be fine."_ Armand voiced his support.

_"NO. Don't you ssssee? It can't! It can never be alright…"_ Harry sniffled.

_"PULL. YOURSELF. TOGETHER!"_ Armand nearly screamed… at least as much as a snake _could_ scream. His apparent anger served to snap Harry to the present from whatever memories he was reliving. Shock filled the luminescent, green eyes as he stared at the furious serpent.

_"You have been acting like thisssss for far too long; yesssss I know you are upset, but there issssss no need to continue blubbering around like a ssssssssimpering little girl! Deal with whatever is troubling you and move on."_

Harry turned his attention back to his cloth-covered knees. _"You don't underssssstand."_

_"Then why don't you tell me?"_ Armand curled up until he could look Harry in the eye. Taking several short, hitching breaths, Harry started on his story.

"It was last summer. I had just gotten out of the Hogwarts express, and the Dursley's were supposed to pick me up, but they had forgotten me… as was usual for them. I was standing, alone on the platform, when this odd man bumped into me. I started to apologize but…"

Harry gulped down another sob.

"I thought at first that it was Voldemort, but at a second glance I caught a glimpse of his immense belly. He turned himself, to apologize I guess, but when he saw me... he… he snarled something at me and…"

::It was like fire, his scar burning at him. Pain laced through his forehead and down his spine, like nothing he had ever experienced before. He gasped as he saw a wand aimed at him and then all was black.::

_"Sssssso… that's why…"_

"NO!" Harry's head jerked up. "That's _not_ it. I woke up a short time after that. The Dursleys had indeed found me and… that's when Vernon started hitting me. He hurt me pretty badly, and I… I couldn't stop him; I was too weak. And he continued day after day, and I wasn't able to heal fast enough to stop him. And… now I can't even try to stop him. I can't…"

Armand looked at Harry in horror. Two years this had been going on? Why hadn't anyone stopped it?

"Because." Harry replied hollowly. "Professor Dumbledore said that I would be safer with my _family_. He won't listen to me. He didn't trust me last year and the most important person in my life perished because of it. He continues to send me back to this hell year after year. He has to know about what goes on in here, he has wards for Merlin's sake! It's probably why Voldemort didn't do anything to me for the past year - he knows that this torture is far worse than any he could come up with."

Armand hissed slightly as he digested this information. How dare they treat his Master that way!_ "Do not let thissssss continue! You have the power you have inheirited! If you cannot usssssse it now, you have only a year left to finisssssh your ssssschooling, right?"_

_"Two yearsssss, Armand."_ Harry hissed brokenly. _"I probably won't lasssssssst to the end of thisssss day; there issssss no way I'm going to sssssurvive for another two yearsssss."_

_"Haven't you told your Professsssssssor about any of thissss?"_

"It's not like I haven't tried to talk to him.The Headmasterbloody avoided me last year. Him and his damn secrets." Harry sighed.

Acanister of tear gascrashed through the window, making the occupants of the room jump in fear. Harry gathered his animals away from the windows with a cry. Another sound broke through the tinkling of the broken glass and the wails from the Dursleys about their house and murderers that were inside it. So that was the cocked up story that they fed the police. The gas started to leak out of the can.

His eyes narrowed in anger. No more. Fuck them and fuck their whole screwed up world. Fucking wizards and fucking Dumbledore. His power began to blaze around him, creating a maelstrom as the green flames licked around the walls of the small house. Fucking Hogwarts! Fucking friends... tears of anger welled in his eyes. No more! He turned to his owl and the snake that was looking at him with respect.

_"Armand, isss there a place that you know of that we may go, to remain undisssturbed?"_

_"Massster, there issss sssuch a place. Would you wish me to transssport you there?"_

Harry's eyes widened slightly. _"I didn't realize that you could do that. Yesssss, bring ussss there."_

Armand nodded, before turning around in a circle, taking his tail softly in his mouth. He began to glow with a bright white light, before that light encompassed the three beings present in the house. Harry grabbed his trunk as they vanished, leaving the ratty house behind as it began to burn from the exposure to Harry's powers. The Dursleys could do nothing but scream as their house went up in smoke along with all their earthly possessions. The firefighters would not arrive for several hours, as they were delayed by a much more urgent fire somewhere else in the city.

The world came back into focus again for Harry and his compainions several minutes after Armand finished the transportation. Their surroundings had changed from muggle to wizard; the walls were a heavy stone like Hogwarts dungeons, the cold dampness permeating the air. There were torches in the enclaves on the walls, however they were not lit. Harry could see just fine though, the pitch black of the dungeons seeming to him as bight as the mid-day sun. Hedwig hooted in annoyance before settling on Harry's shoulder, closing her eyes to trust in her master's ability to get them out of there. Armand slithered up Harry's leg to rest around his waist, looking to the world as a sentinent and tasteful belt.

Harry decided that it would be better for him to start moving; anything would be better than standing in the open where he could easily be attacked. His eyes narrowed as he allowed his Slytherin side to come out to play. Analyzing the place as he went along the corridors, he hypothisized at where he could be. Armand said that he took them someplace where they would not be disturbed; the question would be where did the snake think that they would not be bothered?

The young man stopped as he heard footsteps coming around the corner before him. So there were other people there before him. He lowered himself into a defensive crouch, the newly aquired wings held ridgidly at ninety degree angles away from his body. A light shone suddenly from the end of the corridor and Harry braced himself for the worst. Nothing from his worst nightmares prepared himself for what he saw next - the last thing on earth he expected to see, something that he had no desire to come into contact with, that thing was what he faced now.

The bright red eyes of the person seemed to glow in the dim lighting like rich red rubies. Those eyes widened in the torch light that played on his palid features, slightly scaly like a snakes, a contrast to his dark mop of hair. Lord Voldemort's mouth opened and closed like a fish, before he managed to form coherent sylables. Harry was in the same state of shock if not worse, and more to the fact that his scar was not hurting like it had in the past.

"What the fuck are YOU doing here?" The both shouted at the same time, pointing at each other in horror.


	6. Psycopaths and Psycobabble

AUTHOR'S NOTES

After much begging and pleading from many, many parties, I have decided to continue this little fan fic. I'm truly sorry that I haven't had the time to write lately… for the better part of two years in fact, but I've transitioned from High School to College and I'm about to go into my second year of that now… finals are a bitch. Anywho… I'm off my butt, or rather on it as it were, but I'm continuing to write, so for all those who waited… thank you and I hope you enjoy!

DISCLAIMER: Don't own anyone here 'cept my little snake Armand, not making any money, and all characters belong to the one who created this lovely universe, J.K. Rowling herself. Wish I had Draco though…

_Parseltongue_

Part Six

XxXxXxXxX

"How the fuck did you get into my Manor?" Voldemort hissed, groping wildly about for his wand… which he seemed to have lost somehow. Abandoning his brief struggle he turned his baleful red glare on his unwonted guest, completely missing the changes that Harry had gone through as he tried to flay him alive with his glare alone. Where were his fucking deatheaters when he needed them? "is this some grand scheme Dumbledork came up with to finally get rid of me?"

Harry stood there, frozen, his mouth gaping open like a codfish as what Voldemort said began to sink in. Hold the phone… "Dumble_dork_?"

"What?" A petulant look crossed the most feared wizard in the Wizarding World's face, making him look like nothing more than a cute, harmless little boy. It helped that He looked more like his sixteen year old self instead of the evil snake thing that had been stalking him for the past five years.

"You… what? Your manor? ..DORK?"

"I thought was quite clever. Dore – dork… you DO know what a dork is?" the red eyed man smirked, verbally gaining the upper hand. Clearly, this visit wasn't a planned one.

Harry was still in chock. Voldemort… not trying to kill him… and making witty puns? The world was coming to an end. It had to be. Nothing else could explain the weirdness of this situation and everything previously. It was just taking a while, but he was sure that it would be over soon. Perhaps, it would be painless? A soft coo from Hedwig reminded him of his small passengers. She rested softly on his tensed shoulder, while Armand slithered up his left leg. Looking around again in bewilderment, Harry straightened, forsaking his slouch in favor of stretching his sore muscles. The tension didn't completely leave him, a wary glint remaining in his eyes.

"So… I take it that you aren't going to kill me?" Harry asked.

"Well…" Voldemort sighed, "I hadn't planned on it."

"IF you don't mind me asking, what brought about this change of heart?" Innocent green eyes blinked up into crimson ones. Raking a hand through his black, silky hair, Riddle sighed, chewing slightly on his lower lip.

"You aren't trying to kill me for once."

"What?" Harry yelped, stunned. "But… but… YOU are the one trying to kill ME!"

"Eh?" A confused look entered the man standing opposite of the draconic looking boy. "What are you going on about… when have I ever tried to kill you?"

"What about first year?"

"Well, what about it?"

"You were a psychotic parasitic leech on the back of Quirrel's head, that's what!"

"Um…" Red eyes blinked slowly. "When exactly was this?"

So dumbfounded that he almost pulled a page out of a Japanese cartoon and fell over twitching, Harry was at a complete loss for words. What the hell was going on here? His body chose that moment to run out of energy, and he collapsed onto the dungeon floor, exhaustion taking over his better judgment. Or at least he would have fallen to the floor if Voldemort hadn't reacted instinctively and caught him before he impacted. Hedwig, displaced from her comfy perch by the sudden movements, made her displeasure known, hooting loudly in Voldemort's ear. Glaring at the winged monstrosity, Voldemort shifted Harry's weight so that he was situated directly on his chest as he wrapped his arms around his waist.

"I guess we should abjure to the sitting room then… and maybe get some answers for this mess…" Riddle grasped under Harry's knees and lifted his light form with ease. He started to walk back along the tunnel that he had come from. Hedwig, still annoyed, followed the wizards, her calls echoing off the damp walls. The trunk that had been apparated with Harry remained unseen in the shadowed tunnel, to be remembered at a later date.

To be Continued…


	7. Benefit of the Doubt

AUTHOR'S NOTES

I'm just going to add minor stuff to fill up the chapters that I took down so that my updates will finally be shown. As I said before, I hope that you enjoy the new chapters, and don't forget to review!

DISCLAIMER: Don't own anyone here 'cept my little snake Armand, not making any money, and all characters belong to the one who created this lovely universe, J.K. Rowling herself. Wish I had Draco though…

_Parseltongue_

Part Seven

Previously…

Harry fainted, and Voldemort is carrying him to his sitting room. Hedwig is annoying him.

XxXxXxXxX

"Why are you being so nice to me?" Harry mumbled into Riddle's chest. He couldn't help but smell the spicy scent of his enemy's cologne as he breathed, making the moment even more surreal to his stress addled mind.

"Why shouldn't I? You looked like you needed some help, and it didn't look like you were trying to hurt me. I'm not _that _evil you know."

"But Dumbledore said…" Harry's voice trailed off."

"What did he say?" Riddle's voice reflected his annoyance, his muscles tensing slightly at the mention of the old goat's name.

"He said that you were evil. Like… "The Evil." Killing innocents and all that rot… So.. why aren't you? Killing innocents I mean. Not that you haven't, because you probably have, but I'm innocent, in a weird kind of way, and would that make you want to kill me? Other than the fact that I'm the Boy-Who-Lived and you are supposed to be trying to kill me because the Prophecy said so, and-"

A hand was clasped over his mouth to stop the never ending tirade that was streaming from the boy's mouth. Riddle's eyebrow twitched.

"For you information, I don't have to answer those questions, or anything else that you have directed as me because I'm not THAT evil, thank you very much, and I'm trying to be serious here! Do you want me to dump you on the floor?"

Harry shook his head in a negative fashion, Riddle's hand still resting over his mouth.

"Good. Now, we are going to go sit down and talk calmly like rational, human beings. And I have a feeling that the barmy old goat is up to his old tricks again, so I'm not going to hold anything against you, since it's probably his fault." He finally removed his hand and Harry swallowed, breathing heavily.

"Um… ok then. I'll give you the benefit of the doubt then-"

"You'd better! I'm carrying you, you know." Voldemort cut in.

"I don't know why I'm even listening to you, but… thanks."

"You're welcome. Here we are…"

To Be Continued…


	8. Snake Speaker

AUTHOR'S NOTES

I'm just going to add minor stuff to fill up the chapters that I took down so that my updates will finally be shown. As I said before, I hope that you enjoy the new chapters, and don't forget to review!

DISCLAIMER: Don't own anyone here 'cept my little snake Armand, not making any money, and all characters belong to the one who created this lovely universe, J.K. Rowling herself. Wish I had Draco though…

_Parseltongue_

Part Eight

Previously…

They made it to Voldemort's sitting room.

XxXxXxXxX

The room that they entered was spacious, and had a homey feel about it. Tall bookcases lined the walls, which were a soft, tan color. Several muggle paintings adorned the walls in the spaces between them, once of which Harry identified as a Rembrandt piece. There was also a fireplace on the opposite side of the room, the fire that came alive in its grate casting elongated shadows from the furniture across the room. A small sofa was positioned at an angle by it, and that was where Voldemort put Harry down. Armand took that moment to slither out of Harry's clothes and curl up on his chest.

Voldemort looked at him in surprise. "_And who might you be?"_

"_Greetingsssss sssnake ssspeaker."_ Armand inclined his head towards him. _"Massster Harry will be well with you."_

"_No need to be sssso formal."_ Riddle smiled, sitting down next to Harry.

Hedwig, who had been following the duo, alighted on top of one of the bookshelves, her golden eyes glowing in the firelight. She started preening herself, content to remain where she was.

"For one of your sssstature it isss the only proper thing. The sssssame with my Masssster.

Voldemort nodded, allowing the snake to do as he wished. Turning his attention to Harry, who was still slightly conscious, Riddle finally got a good look at his extra appendages that were gleaming softly in the low light. Instead of looking them over more fully, Voldemort looked over Harry's body to make sure that he wasn't injured physically.

"Are you still awake?" He asked softly.

Verdant eyes fluttered open, the elongated pupil giving them a serpentine look that almost made Riddle gasp. The honeyed skin surrounding his eyes had a smooth complexion, the delicate scales resembling eye shadow that accentuated their almond shape. A small whisper left his slightly parted pink lips. "Yes."

"Um.." Riddle was lost for a minute, the greenness of the eyes making his higher though processes shut down. But then again, anyone in that situation would have, the alluring nature that Harry projected was captivating and extremely tempting for those of either gender. Voldemort literally pinched himself to get himself back on track, wincing at his grabbed his skin a little too hard.

"Are you ok?" Harry came awake a little more, focusing on Riddle completely.

"Yes, yes, nothing you need concern yourself with." He shrugged dismissively, rubbing his arm. "What I was going to say was I think you are suffering from Magical Surpression."

To Be Continued…


	9. Magical Surpression?

AUTHOR'S NOTES

I'm just going to add minor stuff to fill up the chapters that I took down so that my updates will finally be shown. As I said before, I hope that you enjoy the new chapters, and don't forget to review!

**FOR ALL THOSE THAT WAITED FOR THIS UPDATE!**

**I have revised everything from Chapter 5 up, so you need to back read a bit to understand present action. I hope you enjoy the update, and everything in it! **

DISCLAIMER: Don't own anyone here 'cept my little snake Armand, not making any money, and all characters belong to the one who created this lovely universe, J.K. Rowling herself. Wish I had Draco though…

_Parseltongue_

Part Nine

Previously…

Magical Suppression?

XxXxXxXxX

"Magical Suppression? What's what?"

Leaving forward, Riddle brushed the back of his hand across Harry's forehead, lifting the bangs aside to look at his scar. Harry allowed the gesture, silently wondering why it didn't cause him any pain to allow the contact when every time in the past it had caused him untold agony.

"Magical depletion usually occurs when an external source is siphoning magic from a magical being. While that is the most normally excepted source, sometimes a big change in the physiology of a witch or wizard can bring about a use of a large section of that person's magic. If malnourished, underage, or under a magical block or siphon, the person will eventually collapse, or their bodies will simply cease to function."

Emerald eyes widened in shock as the boy began to hyperventilate, his chest rising and falling in an uneven staccato rhythm.

"Shh.." Drawing the boy to his chest, the wizard ran his hand along the boys back, offering support and trying to calm him down. "You have gone though a lot, but there is no need for you to panic."

"But you said…" Harry sobbed, clutching at Riddle's robes, his previous mental state returning to torment him.

"I know what I said. I also know that whatever magic you have lost, it can be replaced and everything will be fine. It's not that serious a condition, and you probably have had it for a while. You are still alive, right?"

He drew Harry's head back and lifted his chin so that he could look into his eyes. The verdant orbs glistened with tears, the paths of those that had already fallen drying against his cheeks. "Right?"

The no longer small boy nodded slowly, still sobbing. It was just too much for him to handle, everything that had happened in the past 48 hours crashing down on him. Why couldn't he just be normal for once? That's all that he wanted, a simple, normal life where no one wanted to be his friend simply because of his celebrity status. A life where no one would turn his or her back on him when he expressed a difference of opinion. Why couldn't Sirius have survived? Why… was he so unworthy that the gods had decided to take away the one thing that he had to live for? His only remaining family? Why was fate so cruel…

Armand slithered up Harry's torso and around his wings, which were twitching softly from where the were slumped against his back, reflecting his abject sorrow. The comforting presence of his familiar and the strong chest that he rested against lent him quiet strength, even as he continued to cry. Fingers clenching in the dark robes of his 'enemy', he was finally able to release his grief over everything.

Eventually his sobs tapered off, Riddle's hand still stroking his back in small, soft circles. A comfortable feeling settled on the room's atmosphere, the fire crackling merrily in its grate as the two settled into a mutual silence.

The soft play of light on the walls was mesmerizing, the flicker of the orange and black shadows that moved on the plush red carpet that graced the floor hypnotizing. Eventually his eyes grew heavy as he examined the books on the shelves from afar, the titles all muggle in origin, and the majority in the fantasy genre. Everything in the room seemed to come together in a complete whole, the safety it presented tantalizing in its entirety.

Even as the silence dragged on, the soft ticking of a clock could be heard, the click, click of it's hands growing louder in the silence. Ultimately it was Harry who broke the stillness. "You aren't what I've come to expect you to be," he mumbled.

"Neither are you." Riddles reply was hushed as well.

Several more minutes passed, and even though it was only afternoon outside the castle, Harry's activities had completely worn him out and his eyelids slid shut against his will, against everything in him that protested sleeping in the other's presence. Slumber beckoned with her weary hands and he accepted their fair caresses as he tumbled into the darkness that dwelt behind his lids. No dreams awaited him, the fates kinder to him in that moment even with all their meddling.

Sighing, Riddle scooped up the unconscious boy once more, apparating to his room as he walked. The room was the antithesis of his drawing room, the dark drapes as green as the abundant forests that surrounded the house, that of the Slytherin house. The drapes around his bed were also the same color, though his sheets were a back that seemed to absorb the light around the bed that was illuminated by torches held in their brackets around the walls. There wasn't much in the way of furniture, only a nightstand that was on the left of the bed, made of the deepest mahogany.

Depositing his bundle in the bed, he tucked the sheets in around his figure, brushing the hair away from his face. A nostalgic look crosses his features, pain haunting his crimson orbs, his mouth twisting into a grimace as he turned on heel and strode sharply from the room.

"Nancy." He spoke softly as the doors closed behind him. At the sound of his voice a little house elf appeared, a white, frilly apron covering her pot-belly and brown, wrinkly skin; the characteristics of her race. Her large, pointy ears flopped as she bowed to her master.

"Master called?"

"I'm going to the potions lab. Be sure to get me once the boy awakens." He turned to go, but not before adding one thing. "Also, can you fix up the other green room... the one at the end of the hall."

"Nancy happy to help kind Master Riddle sir! Nancy gets Master sir if other Master Wizard sir wakes."

"Thank you, Nancy."

Somewhere in the depths of the castle, wherever the red drawing room was located, a snake and an owl stared at each other in annoyance. Day passed into night as the baleful yellow stare of the owl accused the snake of things that only an owl could think of, and the snake stared back in indignation of being stared at. And so it continued…

To Be Continued…


	10. Breakdown

AUTHOR'S NOTES

I'm just going to add minor stuff to fill up the chapters that I took down so that my updates will finally be shown. As I said before, I hope that you enjoy the new chapters, and don't forget to review!

DISCLAIMER: Don't own anyone here 'cept my little snake Armand, not making any money, and all characters belong to the one who created this lovely universe, J.K. Rowling herself. Wish I had Draco though…

Parseltongue

Part Nine

Previously…

Potions... and Owl staring.

XxXxXxXxX

There wasn't any sunlight to herald the morning. Hoards of ominous dark clouds obscured the sun from ever reaching the earth, dark and gray, heavy with impending rain. Nothing good could come of such a turn of weather, the shift in wind sending shivers down the spines of any who dared to stare out into it. The crash of thunder in the distance caused several of the animals in the forest outside the huge manor to jump in fright, the flash of light that preceeded it illuminating the entire sky with it's brilliance. The cloud covering moved faster, overtaking the castle with it's wake.

The window panes rattled, branches scraping against the glass withing them, the erie sound reminicent of nails on a chalkboard. The strident screech continued slowly, ever so slowly, just loud enough to make the boy asleep on the bed within the room awake, eyes wide with fright. No one came to calm him however, the occupents of the castle busy with their duties or still asleep in the early morning hours. The thunder crashed louder, and louder still, shaking the sills with the storm's fury until the violet tinged sky darkened to the point of absolute blackness and torrents of rain poured from the open expanse to rail against the castle and grounds.

None of this seemed natural to the lone occupent of the bedroom as he clutched the black sheets in his hands. The buffets of the wind as it screeched around the corner of the house resounded into a continuous wailing noise, hollow and broken. His messy, black hair fell into his green eyes, unfocused with sleep. Small wings folded against his back, mettalic in the half light and shadows of the room. Taking in his surroundings, it took him a while to realise where he was, and in whose house he was in.

Melencholy, his eyes focused on the sheets before him, and where his hands rested. He traced patterns in the smooth material with his eyes, meditating on the simplicity of it, and wishing that the nightmares would stay away. The stone wall of the castle mocked him from across the room, with it's multitude of stones supporting each other in a way that his friends never would for him. Tears pricked his eyes, but he forced them away, pressing his lips together so hard that it hurt. Betrayal... what a word.

Hesitently he slipped a foot from the bed to rest on the cold, stone floor, shifting aside his sheets with his right hand. Weight resting on his left foot, he lifted himself from the bed, the silk rubbing discordently with his tatterd clothing. He must not have changed before he fell asleep the night before, he mused. Rain dribbled down the window in droves, pattering incessently against the smooth surface. He padded softly over to the ledge before the window, and raised a hand softly to touch the cold glass. The chill travelled up his arm to lodge in his heart.

He sighed, slowly. There would be no more sleep for him now. He could sympathize with the weather - free and unbidden by another's whims and yet contrained to it's preset patterns. Controlled by an unseen hand. Harry sat down on the stone and starred out into the storm, watching the lighting as it crossed the heavens, wild in its fury. It continued, unabated for some time, and the boy lost himself in it, focusing on each raindrop as it merged into the next, an inending stream of amusement for him.

Sirius. He was gone... his fault. He could accept that now. He was a freak, an oddity of nature, something that would always be reviled and feared. To think that he was the supposed 'savior' because of some prophecy... well, that was something that only a fool could believe. He was only a child, and a deformed one at that; not meant to be the figurehead of mighty wizards such as Dumbledore. What did the man ever see in him? A reckless youth that had already led others to their deaths of course. Cedric... Sirius... two of the most prominent. He was sure that he had caused other deaths, ones that he didn't remember.

Mother... Father... He didn't even realize that his cheeks were wet until a teardrop trailed off the path of the others to slide off the tip of his nose and land wetly against his folded hands. A small sob wracked his chest, only one, for he tried to stiffle it yet again. It wouldn't do for him to cry; men don't... they just don't. Unlike other boys... never to hear his mother's lullabye, her warm laughter. Her praise.

All his fault...

He couldn't stop it this time, and the tears continued to come. Wet, trickling down his face, the salty drops mixing with his saliva as his mouth opened in mute agony. Never... never normal. No one would ever love him, no one. No one for the freak... Vernon was right. He was a nobody; a nobody with unwonted fame, that hurt more than it helped. Everyone would turn on him, just like they did when they found out that he was a parselmouth in second year, or like fourth year with the tournament. Ron even turned against him then. Just as his should.

Worthless...

He brough up his arm to his mouth, stuffing the fabric into his mouth as harsh sob wracked his body, even as the storm panted it's last breaths outside. Hot tears streamed down already damp cheeks, his eyes heavy and swollen, irritated from his unchecked emotions. A lethargic feeling stole through his tense muscles, weak and helpless as a babes. Mucus clogged his nasal passageways, the clear saline drying against his upper lip, even as he wiped it away. It seemed that he would never be able to breathe normally again, his uneven breaths hitching in his chest as he tried to level his breathing.

As he contemplated the world around him, he would forget about his misery for a minute as his thoughts trailed off to some innane subject, until something reminded him again and he would bite off the sobs that would stem from that thought. Eventually, his head sagged against the stone behind him. He counted the tiles that made up the arch of the window, a mindless task to take his attention elseware. The itchy feeling crept up against his lids as the fluids began to dry against his skin, leaving it flaky and sensitive.

Heavy once again, his eyes drifted shut, his self recriminations more hurtful and yet more helpful than he would have thought. Deep scars resided against his young psyche, that would have to be resolved eventually. He didn't know this, however, and drifted off into a dreamless sleep, propped up against the damp window, his legs hanging off the ledge to trail against the floor.

x x x x

Riddle blinked his sleep crusted eyes as he sat up, blearily. It must be morning... he hadn't meant to fall asleep. He looked down, disgusted at the small puddle of drool gracing his potions notes. He yawned, raking a hand through his messy hair, more the antithisis of a Slytherin in that moment than a Griffendor could be. Pushing his chair away from his desk, he straightened his robes and left in search of coffee.

Getting to the kitchens was no easy feat, navigating the stone tunnels was truely difficult to one who had yet to become fully aware of his surroundings. Alone, his quiet footfalls were heavy in the pristine silence; they echoed in the distance of the immense stone structure. He passed several portraits, and doors, as well as several open passageways until he discovered the staircase that sloped down into the kitchens of the house.

At this time of the morning, the house elves were still sleeping; he had grown accustomed to making his own coffee in the morning before getting his servents up and about for their duties.

A kitchen like a muggle resturant stretched before him, but he only went to the nearest counter where he had a muggle coffee maker hooked up to a magical adaptor. Some things that muggles invented were so useful... Somehow he managed to get the thing loaded and started, complete with the filter without the need for coordination. Slumping against the counter, he breathed in the blessed aroma that the steeping beans made. Sanity...

A soft pop and a distraught house elf appeared in front of him.

"Master sir, Nancy did not mean to fall asleep watching the young Master wizard sir, please don't give Nancy clothes!" She cried, wringing her hands in her white apron. Her little brown feet shuffled back and forth in fright, but refusing to do anything that would upset her master any more.

His eyebrow twitched. Not this early in the morning. Coffee... "What do you want." His voice was flat and cold.

"Oh, Master sir! The other Wizard sir is woken! He is upset too, sea water leaks from his eyes. Very distressed he is. Master sir should go." She said, looking at the floor, misery written in her posture. Tom's eyes widened. Bloody shit. Bullocks!

"What! When? How long as this been going on? Wait, no, never mind, I'll see to it myself. Make my coffee. Why didn't you get me sooner!" With that, a blur raced from the kitchens, aparating as he went. Too bleeding early in the effin morning... he popped into the bedroom with ease, eyes immediatly falling on the sleeping boy pressed up against the window pane. Soft sobs shook him still, even in his sleep. Voldemort's heart contracted at the pitiful sight the boy made, his slender form in his tattered garments, and his ruddy, tear streaked face. He brushed back the hair from his scar, smoothing it back gently in a calming motion.

Even as Harry slept, he leant into the gesture, accepting it's wordless comfort from his inner demons. The pang in Riddle's chest grew. Why did it have to be now... like this. Slowly gathering the bundle into his arms, he helped him back to the bed, wandlessly switching his oversized muggle clothes with one of his own sleep shirts. He should have done that before...

Harry whimpered as Tom tried to pull away from his embrace, tightening his hold on Tom's robes. A soft smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, and he decided that it wasn't worth it to get out of the bed. Besides... his boy needed him. Probably regret it in the morning, but what the hell, aye? Embracing the boy, he pulled up the covers around them and drifted off into Morpheus' hands.

When the elf arrived with his coffee he was already asleep.

x x x x

The owl and snake called a truce as they both could not stay awake any longer.

To Be Continued...

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	11. How to Deal

AUTHOR'S NOTES

Thank you all for your kind reviews! Hope you continue to let me know what you think, I love getting feedback...

DISCLAIMER: Don't own anyone here 'cept my little snake Armand, not making any money, and all characters belong to the one who created this lovely universe, J.K. Rowling herself. Wish I had Draco though…

_Parseltongue_

Part Nine

Previously…

A sad, rainy morning.

XxXxXxXxX

Riddle was the one who woke up first, a sharp intake of breath hissing out as his eyes snapped open, still fogged slightly with sleep. A soft weight rested against his chest, elegent hands entangled in his outer robes as the boy held onto them as tightly as he could in his sleeping state. Messy black hair fell softly into Harry's face, his cheeks still tearstained from his previous breakdown. It was understandable, really, he was only a teenage boy after all. Riddle frowned to himself, eyebrows creasing with frustration. If only that meddling old fool hadn't...

Well, what was done can not be undone. Didn't stop him from hating the bumbling bee any less. So many years wasted... oportunities lost... and his inablility to cope with it all was still maddening. Voldemort gazed up at the dark velvet canopy of his bed, the sight and feel familiar to him, save for the addition that was currently curled up against him. The fabric cascaded fluidly to the stone floor, enveloping the bedposts with it's finery, a beautiful emerald green. Very similar to Harry's eyes, in fact, Tom mused to himself. So unlike everything that he had come to believe, he was, so powerful and yet still so innocent. He sighed, deeply, running his free hand over his eyes. This wasn't going to end well, just as soon as the doddering coot got wind of it, he would bet.

Harry whimpered slightly in his sleep, tossing his covers off as he clutched his scar. Oh... that notorious scar, the one that had marked him for fifteen years. He... Voldemort as it were, did take responsibility for it... casting the spell that did it however... Tom soothed back strands of ebony as he comforted the teen into deeper sleep. He couldn't tell him. And... he couldn't let himself dwell on it anymore. Just live in the moment, and all that rot... sodding old coot. He would get what was coming to him, and his sodding brood as well. Doddering bloody...

Why did he even want to continue this line of thought? Yes... he would pay, as surely as he was the Flight of Death, pay for his wretched presence on this fair earth!

Feeling himself getting to worked up to remain still, Riddle managed to extract himself from Harry's embrace and staggered from the room. Bloody sodding blood circulation and it's nesscesity for working body parts... He ranted to himself as he felt about for the knob to the bathroom, despreatly needing to relieve himself. Several tries were all it took before he made it to the loo and took care of his business. Pausing at the sink to wash his hands, he looked up into the mirror at his reflection.

Haunted green eyes stared back at him, dull jade a far cry from the verdent color of the boy's. The orbs peered back at him from a delicately featured face, the strong tilt of his jade attesting to his unrelenting attitude and fine dark hair close cropped to his scalp. Not much different from when he attended school in his late teens. He frown deepened as he noticed more gray and white hairs appearing around his temples. It was decent considering his age, but still... Well, he sighed, it did make him look distinguished. He pushed away the memoried that threatened to resurface ruthlessly. There was a time and a place for everything, and this was not it. After everything was taken care of... only then...

A string of curses left his mouth, and he finished spashing water on his face to help him wake up. He would take a shower later.

xXxXxXxXx

Harry wasn't in the same state as Riddle was at that moment. He was currently having the most wonderful sleep in his life, in a comfortable bed, finally free of nightmares for more than five minutes. He was grateful to the man that had slept beside him and comforted him through the night, more grateful than he had ever been to Dumbledore. When had he ever comforted him when he was kept awake from his nightmares? Never. He never would, and Harry was beginning to think that he was only seen to him as a weapon. A mindless object to do his bidding. Why else would he abandon him, year after year, calling him out only when he needed a hero or a scapegoat?

Morbid, aye, but Harry had plenty of time to mope about and think. It just made sense. Why else would we have allowed his godfather to follow him into the Department of Mysteries... or let him go in the firstplace? Dumbles wasn't omnipotent, but as the Headmaster for God knows how many years, Harry was sure that he had more than a fair share of knowing what went on in that Castle. How else could he explain The Mirror of Erised? Fawkes in the Chamber of Secrets? The list could go on and on, spanning his years at the castle.

And his dear friends... to abandon him as they had. Not one bloody letter. And he supposed that it was 'for his own good' as dictated by Dumbledore. And another, puzzling, confusing mess... the Dark Lord that he was currently sharing a castle with... and bed. It didn't feel wrong... not in any way that Harry had ever considered, but it was comforting. Not to mention that he hadn't been killed yet.

The prophecy... perhaps it was wrong. Tom didn't seem like a bad guy, especially as he spent more time around him. Dumbledore had been the only one around when Treleweny gave it. Could he have tampered with it? Harry imidiatly chastised himself for thinking that about the old goat. There were lines that people could and could not cross... he couldn't see Dumbledore as so manipulitive and evil. It was just wrong!

Harry sighed, and opened his eyes. Tom had left the bed sometime before he had woken up, and his half was cold. His eyes hurt, still puffy and red from the night before. Or morning... whatever time of day that it was. He scrubbed at them with the back of his hand, annoyed when that only made the problem even worse. Deciding to forget about his annoying problems for the time being, Harry gingerly stepped out of the bed and went in search of a bathroom.

Some things really needed to be taken care of before anything else could be considered.

xXxXxXxXx

Tom had been working on his potion for almost an hour before he was inturrputed by a house elf. It popped up behind him, startling him so that he almost dropped a vile of crushed Billywig powder that he had been stoppering.

"Master sir, your coffee is being ready." The elf bowed, setting the cup of java on the adjecent counter top before vanishing once more to wherever it was that house elves went. Suddenly the day was so much better... Tom refused to rush to the cup of heavenly goodness and with all his strength remained composed enough to order his ingredients back to their proper places. Only then did he allow himself to indulge in the luscious liquid that brought with it sanity and life. Sipping on it, he looked over his notes, making more as he expanded on one subject or another.

It was almost finished... and he would have solved the freakish puzzle that had been mulling in his brain for the past seventeen years. If only he had access to that accursed place... but the Aurors made sure that he would never see that place again. Not in this lifetime, not unless something drastic caused a miracle to happen... and that wasn't very likely.

More notes followed the ones that he jotted down, continuing on until he ran out of immidiatly usable parchment. Growling slightly, he rubbed his temples in annoyance, calling the house elves for more paper. He got a muggle notebook for his troubles. Maladictions and a broken stool followed in its wake as Riddle's temper got away from him. Dark Lord... BAH! Fuck that, and the stupid bloody cunt, bee eyed bastard... Everything... well, loosing everything one had would cause anyone to go Dark. Justifying that righteous prick's accusations... nothing had been sweeter. There was no such thing as the rules and regulations that goverened the Wizarding world... power was the only thing that those simpering wizards would understand and by God he was going to give them power.

"Flashy." Riddle growled, looking about for the elf. It appeared before the last silible left the Dark Lord's mouth, bowing deeply. "Summon Lucius. I wish to talk to him in private, there will be no others at this meeting. Do not so much as breathe a word to anyone other than him or so help me you will never feel the end of my wrath. Understand?"

Quaking, the house elf did as he was told, popping away to summon Lucius Malfoy. Tom frowned, glaring at a spot on the table he had made during his tantrum that had been damaged by the flying wood. One less thing to worry about though, Harry didn't seem like we wanted to kill him anymore; he could focus on the dammed Headmaster now, and his ridiculous Order of the Fried Chicken. Honestly, naming his subordinates a ridiculous thing like "Death Eathers" to the newspapers...

Perhaps he should talk to his... guest... before Malfoy got there.

Pushing himself fully to his feet, he adjusted his robes, striding out of the room in a huff. He could act childish if he damn well pleased. His robes billowed in responsed.

xXxXxXxXx

Having found the bathroom, Harry wasted no time at all in showering. It was heaven to feel the hot droplets of water against his clammy skin, imbuing him with their warmth even as he spread suds about his torso, arms, and shoulders. It was unnerving for him to feel scales on his skin, as well as the extension of his wings from his back. If he concentrated, he could make them move in deliberate motions rather than the floppy, instinctive motions that happened even when he didn't think about them.

Freak...

No! He shook his head violently. He wasn't a freak! Maybe not normal, but he wasn't a freak... he wasn't. He bit his lip, pushing the thoughts from his mind as he struggled to get a grip. He was stong... he could get through this. He could get through anything! Hell.. he _had_ gone through hell, and this is what remained; tough, a survivor. No more crying, he vowed.

Forcing his taloned hands to unclench, he finished his shower, undulging in some of the soaps that Riddle kept for hair care. Relaxing, he allowed his thoughts to drift away from the wizarding and muggle worlds, and into nature; peaceful scenes from parks, the forest about the castle of Hogwarts, these scenes took over his memory as he drifted under the droplets from the shower head.

Eventually he made himself get out, grasping about for a towel which he then wrapped about his trim waist. One thing he ws grateful for about his transformation; he was no longer short, or skinny. He could only guess that he stood around five ten or eleven at the moment, and his frame was muscled like a swimmers. Rubbing away a patch of moisture from the mirror, he allowed himself a sad smirk as he looked at himself, mimicking Tom unknowingly. Wet, shaggy black hair tumbled into his eyes, tame for once in his life. Long, serrated ears poked out from beneath the mess, mettalic, much like a dragon's. The rest of his features were normal, for the most part; he didn't think that anything had really changed, save his ears.

He turned away from the mirror without another thought... and opened the door to bump into a broad, velvet encased chest. A male chest. He looked up in trepidation to the aristocratic features of one Lucius Malfoy.

Who was in shock, his mouth hanging open in a most un-pureblood way.

Lucius fainted.

Harry blushed.

Tom stalked from the previously occupied bedroom into the said scene, with one half naked boy and an unconcious pureblood. The day couldn't get any better than this.

xXxXxXxXx

With a wide, hissing yawn, Armand blinked slowly awake, vaguly aware that his resting place was very warm and comfy. Very soft too. He sighed, a very snake like sigh, and curled deeper into the warmth... Another nap wouldn't hurt.

Hedwig was a grumpy owl. Being a snake pillow just wasn't her thing...

To Be Continued...

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That should be it for now... thank you again, all those who reviewed! This chapter is for you!


	12. Explainations are in order

"Honestly, Lucius." Tom crossed his arms as he frowned at the man currently occupying his couch, recovering from the massive shock of seeing the Boy-who-lived in the house of his master. Said boy was currently dressing himself upstairs. The sitting room that the two where in was unchanged from the previous day, save the empty grate of the hearth. The scion of the Malfoy line continued to carry on about enemies and wards until Tom had enough. The 'Dark Lord' was more than annoyed. "When I asked you to come over it wasn't to watch your histrionics."

"But, my Lord…"

"Silence. I called you here for a reason." He turned away from the blond, a hand raising to rest against his chin. "I believe that I have figured out that old man's crazy scheme."

Malfoy's eyes widened.

"The events of that night that stripped me of my family have never ceased to confound me. That last missing element… it was Harry himself. The old man wanted to turn him against me, and to mold him to his own ideas of how the foretold child should be. What he didn't count on was Lilly," Tom snorted. "And yet, he managed to make everything fit together so smoothly. Even I am impressed. But no more."

"What do you plan to do?" The blond sat up, leaning on his elbows.

"Tell him the truth."

"Honestly? The truth is enough to make my head spin. How do you think the boy will take it?"

"I don't know." The sharp eyes of Riddle surveyed the room, coming to rest of the mop of hair peaking around the edge of the open door. "Why don't we ask the boy in question?"

Sheepishly, Harry stole into the room, twisting his hands anxiously as he approached the duo. He hadn't meant to spy, but as he had turned the corner he had stilled at the name "Lilly." Hadn't the saying always went, 'curiosity killed the cat?'

"Harry, we were just speaking about you, and about how everything turned out as it has. Come, sit." Riddle gestured to the open chair.

"Thank you, sir."

"There is no need for formalities. But I digress. I suppose that you are curious as well about that night."

Harry nodded. Lusicus had arranged himself in a more dignified position by this time, and was staring at the younger male is intense concentration. It made Harry nervous to be observed like that, but resolutely he bore it out. His silent fortitude impressed the aristocratic blond.

"Lusicus."

Malfoy spoke, "How much do you know about the night that made you famous?"

"Not very much," Harry answered. "Only what Professor Dumbledore told me. I have had visions of my parents' deaths when dementors come near me as well, and I have had dreams…"

The two men exchanged significant looks.

Riddle steepled his fingered focusing solely on the squirming wizard. "Tell me everything that he told you, or that you can remember, and I will tell you what really happened."

"I remember screams. Dad said, 'take Harry and run." Mum cried a bit later, 'kill me, not Harry.' You said something, and laughed. And then a bright green light and pain. Dumbledore said that it was my mother's love that saved me, that she created a protective ward when she died. " He took a deep breath. "I'm not going to go into more detail. I think that summarizes everything."

The room grew silent as he stopped talking, and remained that way for several minutes.

"Harry…" The jade eyes of Riddle looked sorrowfully at Harry. "What if I told you that everything, everything that you were told, remember, or felt from that time… was a lie?"

The boy's eyes widened slightly. Truth be told, he had been expecting something like this, but not the utter truth reflected in the depths of those glittering orbs. There was something… it wasn't tangible, but it hovered over their heads like a cloud of Veritserum. He knew that Voldemort wasn't lying, he felt it in his bones, and that fact scared the piss out of him. He had never felt like this when he spoke with Dumbledore.

"Your father was in fact James Potter." Their eyes locked. "But you never had a mother."

"What?" He couldn't keep his childish exclamation down. "That's impossible!"

A benevolent smile tugged the corner of his mouth. "Have you forgotten so readily? Magic. There are many ways to conceive a child in the Wizarding World."

"So how was I conceived then, and what about Lilly?" Harry was completely confused.

"Lilly was never part of the equation. Your father and I…" Riddle trailed off at a loss for words, a cherry red color creeping across his cheeks. He looked helplessly at Lucius. "You really shouldn't have had to find out like this. Lucius, help me out."

The blond sighed. "Potter, you are the child of Tom Riddle and James Potter."

"I suppose it would be a little too cliché to faint right now." The shocked boy whispered. "How is it even possible?"

"I thought we already covered that." Malfoy smirked.

"Lucius!"

Rebuked, the Malfoy cast his eyes to the floor. Riddle looked anxiously back at Harry who was sitting as still as a statue.

"How do you explain my memories then?"

"Dumbledore is anything if not thorough. I have only figured out how he had manipulated everything… even my own actions. There where many possibilities that I have thought of and discarded, but the evidence that I managed to gather has suggested that he used memory spells on you as soon as he stole you from your crib."

Harry shook his head slowly. "Why don't you just start from the beginning and tell me your side of the story."

Riddle began to pace the room, trying to get his thoughts in order. "I suppose that it wouldn't hurt to straighten out a few things. Your father and I were very happy together. We had met completely by accident in a muggle bookstore; weren't looking where we were going and nearly killed each other. Well, to cut things short, we started talking and things progressed from there.

"I had known since I had started attending Hogwarts that Dumbledork was a controlling idiot. I knew that with the defeat of Grindelwald he was riding a power high and as his fame began to die down he did everything in his power to create another dark lord for him to fight. Two guesses as to who that dark lord could be." A sardonic smirk briefly crossed his melancholy features.

"Anyway, James was nearly thirty-five years my junior, but everything seemed to fit together perfectly. He helped me to escape from the old fart's web of lies and gave me hope that I didn't have to be Dark. I had no plans except to have a family and take care of them like I was never taken care for. You know I grew up in an orphanage. I'm sure that Dumbles told you that."

"He did."

"I'm leaving out details you don't need to know, but suffice to say that soon we were expecting you."

Harry frowned. "I still don't understand… did one of you carry me? Or did you have a surrogate mother, or was there a spell-"

"Slow down!" Tom chuckled softly. "I suppose that technically I could be called your 'mother'."

"My lord…" Lucius grumbled.

"Yes, yes. Back to the story. Um… well, Dumbles found out. He had plans of his own for James, and he wasn't to happy with our relationship. He wanted him to marry Lilly Evans. She wasn't completely horrible, just reclusive and liked to act like a bookworm. James would have none of it, and moved in with me shortly after the Headmaster confronted him. His friends supported him, the Marauders I believe he called them. One was a traitor though. He was loyal to Dumbles the whole time and as soon as he could figure out the precise location of our home, told him everything.

"That night was the worst in my life. I came back from work to find the house in smoking ruins. James was lying dead on the floor of the living room, apparently tortured to death. I'll spare you the details. You were missing from your crib."

He paused to take a shaky breath.

"Dumbledore was waiting there, in your room, with a smile on his face like he had won the lottery. He said to me, "My dear boy, perhaps you should do what you are destined to do. The wizarding world has its hero already, and you know I could never allow the spawn of a Dark Lord to remain alive. Don't worry, I'll take care of everything." And I stood there as he drew his wand and Obliviated me."

Riddle started pacing again, running his fingers through his close cropped hair. "Of course, he underestimated me. It wore off after several weeks, but I thought that you were dead. And I started down the road of vengeance once again."

Harry was appalled. The image that he held of Dumbledore was completely opposite of what he was being told; he didn't know what to believe. On one hand everything that Dumbledore said sounded remotely true… it could have happened like that. But then how about all the other women who had given their lives for their children? Why couldn't the protection of their love have saved their children?

"So have you ever killed an innocent?"

"Yes. I'm sure that I have, in some shape or form. After the memory charm wore off my rage consumed me and I went after everyone that was associated with Dumbledore. After several months my grief overwhelmed my anger and I wanted to know exactly who was responsible for what happened. It was too late to use the backtracking charm in the house, and I didn't even have that option as the house was under Ministry surveillance. I have been working on a potion that would allow me to see the events of that night exactly as they occurred, so that I could have proof of what Dumbledore did to me and mine."

"But what about a pensive?" Harry leaned forward earnestly. "If you showed the Wizengmagot that they would have to believe you."

"I already thought about that. There is a law that was passed just a few decades ago that forbade any memories to be entered into evidence that had traces of a memory charm on them, even if it had been broken."

"There are a few things that I still don't understand. What about the Death Eaters? And the part you had to play in that reign of terror?" The fey looking boy leaned back into his seat, brain working overtime to temper the information with logic.

"I didn't.Voldemort was a name that I invented in school that I never intended to use. Dumbledore, however, had access to my belongings and I believe saw what I had written. The attacks were something that everyone had to live with in those times. Lucius and the rest of my… followers, were part of a special force that I led to target the terrorists and bring them to justice at the ministry. But that's enough for now. I believe that it's nearly time for lunch, and you have much to think about."

Harry sighed as the older two made their way out of the room, staring into the empty grate. What the fuck?


End file.
